


Counting Down

by apolesen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, M/M, Mention of suicide ideation, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolesen/pseuds/apolesen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night until the full moon, and who knows how long until the end of the war. All Sirius can do to help is listen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Down

Night had fallen. The silence of the near-derelict rooms of 12 Grimmauld Place was broken only by the occasional scuttling of vermin from one hiding-place to the next. In the drawing-room, the grandfather clock struck. The sound carried up the stairwell, into the rooms of the top floor. There, Sirius counted the chimes. Thirteen. He made a mental note to break the curse on it, and rolled onto his side.

Through the gap between the curtains, the moonlight streamed into the room. It sent shadows dancing across the bedroom, dyeing everything a deep blue. Remus lay facing the window, his back turned towards Sirius. Something in the set of his shoulders told him that he was awake. Did the light play over his face as over the ceiling? Was he watching it? He knew that Remus did not need to watch the moon to know how round it had grown. Tomorrow, that celestial pregnancy would be brought to term, but the only blood which would be spilt was the wolves’ and their victims’.

‘Moony?’ Sirius whispered through the darkness. There was a grunt in reply. Slowly, to give him time to draw away if he wanted to, Sirius edged closer and put his arm around him. Remus did not move at all, neither pulling away nor relaxing against him. Up close, his scarred skin shone with the silver light. ‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ 

‘You’re talking,’ Remus murmured, but it was a poor attempt at a joke. 

‘It’s the moon, isn’t it?’ 

Slowly, he exhaled. 

‘The moon, the war... Yes.’ 

‘You need to sleep. You’re going to lose so much sleep anyway...’ 

Remus shrugged. 

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to get any rest tonight. There’s too much on my mind.’ 

Sirius tightened his grip around him.

‘Tell me about it,’ he said. Remus did not answer, but said: 

‘Shouldn’t _you_ sleep? You’re going to lose sleep tomorrow night as well, if you’re keeping me company...’ 

‘Of course I will. But, look, if there’s too much on your mind, let some of it out. Talk to me.’ Remus sighed. 

‘Most of it is nothing you can do anything about...’ 

‘I can listen.’ 

There was a moment’s silence, then: 

‘The moon.’ He shifted towards Sirius, but spoke as if he was addressing the darkness. ‘It’s pulling at me. I already hurt. My shoulders, my back - it feels like I’ve carried something very heavy. My bones... itch. And my joints hurt. The ones in my knees are worst. It’s not going to happen for another night, but it’s like every bit of me, except for my waking mind, is bracing itself for the transformation. Every bone, every muscle, every organ... Even my senses. Everything smells odd. Nothing tastes right. Things look different. Especially...’ He raised his hand and drew stiff fingers through the beams. ‘...the moonlight. I don’t just see it. I hear and smell and taste it. It’s like I can touch it.’ His fingers closed in midair, as though he expected to be able to grasp the light. ‘It’s always like that, and I’m still terrified every time.’ 

‘Oh, Remus...’ Sirius had always known that the days before the full moon was difficult, but like this... No. They had spoken about it many times, but nothing had ever seemed this sincere or this frightening. 

‘I don’t remember not being a werewolf,’ Remus admitted. ‘I have a few memories from before I was bitten, but I can’t remember watching the moon and not feeling it. I’d never reflected upon it until then.’ 

‘You were so young - it’s not odd.’ 

‘I just don’t know what it feels like to be...’ The word took some effort to say. ‘...normal.’ 

Sirius did not know what to say at that. He simply rubbed his back in sympathy. 

‘What else?’ he whispered. Remus sighed, as if he did not know which to pick. 

‘Harry,’ he said finally. ‘He was so angry last time I saw him. Not at me, but at... everything. He’s not a child anymore. That scares me. And it scares me even more that I don’t know whether it’s because he’s grown, or because of what he’s been through. I wish we could protect him - we owe him that - or at least make sure he’s alright, but with Umbridge at Hogwarts... I hate that that despicable bigot is teaching him. That she’s anywhere near him. Even if I know that he’d never listen to her...’ 

‘He wouldn’t,’ Sirius said firmly. 

‘But I do worry about what his aunt and uncle might have raised him to believe.’ Remus’ voice was so soft now that Sirius could barely hear him. He pressed closer to be sure he caught every word. ‘If he found out about us, Sirius, what would he think?’ 

‘Don’t be stupid, Moony. He wouldn’t think anything.’ 

‘How do you know? He’s a good person, he thinks the best of people, but... he might have picked up things from _them_... I can’t see how Lily could have such family. They’re bound to think the worst of people like us.’ 

‘And Harry would know that’s tosh.’ 

‘I hope so.’ Remus rubbed his foot against Sirius’. He embraced him tighter. ‘I know it can’t happen, but I wish he could spend more time here. You deserve to get to know him properly.’ 

It was simply a statement, but the implication burned him. 

‘I _do_ know him,’ Sirius snapped. At once he wished he had not risen to the unintended challenge, but Remus did not seem even to notice. 

‘I taught him for a year. I probably know him better than you do. And to be honest, I hate that. It doesn’t seem right.’ 

‘There’ll be time to deal with that. Umbridge can’t stay forever, and he’ll want to come to visit.’ 

‘Maybe when Voldemort comes out into the open, but then... we will all have our duties.’ He paused, as if uncertain whether he wanted to continue on this topic. ‘The werewolves are getting restless. There are whispers that something is happening. Greyback disappeared a few weeks ago. I think he’s been recruited.’ Sirius found Remus’ hand and squeezed it. Their fingers intertwined, Remus’ grip almost cramp-like. ‘If that’s true, he’ll be ready to start collecting werewolves for Voldemort’s service as soon as his return becomes public. It might already have started happening. The packs...’ 

‘Do they worry you?’ 

‘Oh, yes. There will be deaths tomorrow. Probably people on the edges of society, who wouldn’t be missed. I doubt it will be reported. Last full moon they caught a few humans and made a penn, which they all transformed in. It was still there when I came back, but inside... there was nothing left that resembled people.’ Remus’ fingers twitched. ‘Some of them talk about finding a village and surrounding it at full moon, standing in a circle all around it and transforming, so that there is no way for people to flee. The packs aren’t well-organised enough for that, but if Greyback comes back and takes charge... There will be nothing I or anyone else can do. Not without staying over the full-moon, and I can’t do that. If I did, I.... I might be the one to kill someone.’ 

‘You’re staying here,’ Sirius said. ‘And if they plan something like that, the Order will find a way to stop it. Evacuate people at the very least.’ Several seconds passed, without an answer. Sirius wondered if Remus had finally fallen asleep. Carefully, he let go of him. ‘Moony?’

Remus stirred and wrapped his arms around himself, not asleep after all. 

‘I’m worried for you, Sirius.’ 

He watched the silhouette of him where he lay. The way he lay made him look self-contained, as if he did not want to be touched. 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘You’re stuck here in this horrible house. I know how you hate it. You watch everyone else pass through, and everyone is too busy to stay, but you have nothing to do. And it’s not like people don’t make a point of bringing it up. I’m worried it’ll get to you. You always seem restless. And when you’re on your own here, with only Kreacher around... I see what it does to you. You seem... unstable. You lash out, even worse than when you were younger. Much worse. And you drink too much - but I think you know that already. I keep thinking... what if you lose your calm and leave the house, to help with Order business or to go looking for a fight, or, for that matter, just to go for a walk, and the Death Eaters find you... The things they’d do to you...’ 

‘I’d fight back.’ 

‘See, you don’t even deny it. You know you’re perfectly capable of disobeying Dumbledore’s orders. Happy, even. But it’d kill you. You wouldn’t be able to fight back - not forever. And they’d take pleasure in it. Everyone is more frightened of you than they are of any of them. They must hate you. I don’t want them to get near you.’ 

An old anger sparked inside Sirius. 

‘If it comes down to it, I _will_ fight! You and Dumbledore can’t coop me up here as if I’m some precious flower. I’m going to do my bit!’ Even through the air between them, he could feel how Remus tensed. For a moment he made no sound at all. Then a sob escaped him. Sirius’ anger transformed into regret. ‘Moony, I... I’m sorry. I know it’s not you... it’s Dumbledore and his stupid orders...’ He moved closer, slowly, and put his hand on Remus’ shoulder. The moonlight made the tears shimmer on his face. His eyes were wide-open, staring at the almost perfectly round disc which peeked through the gap of the curtains. 

‘I’m so frightened, Padfoot,’ he whispered finally. ‘Every time there’s a meeting or a dinner, I wonder who’s going to die first. Whenever Molly talks about her children, I wonder whether they’re going to survive. Every single time someone mentions Harry...’

‘But he’s okay,’ Sirius said desperately, leaning over him and cradling him in his arms. ‘He’s not in any danger.’ 

Remus shook his head, as if to say, _but for how long?_ He was silent for some time, weeping quietly. When he spoke again, his voice was cracked and hoarse. 

‘Padfoot...’ 

‘Yes?’ 

‘I feel weak,’ he whispered. ‘Not just mentally. My body feels like it’s about to break. And it’s not just around the full moon, it’s all the time. I’m getting old. And... I’m afraid of dying.’ 

‘You’re not going to die,’ Sirius said quickly. He waited for an answer, listening to their breaths, just out of sync. 

‘Being killed in battle wouldn’t be so bad. It’s usually quick, and there’s a purpose to it. But falling ill, and getting weaker and weaker...’

‘Moony...’ Sirius wanted to tell him to shut up - he didn’t want to talk about this or even think about it - but he knew that Remus was right. In time, it would come to pass. But not in his lifetime - he’d rather go first. 

‘But there are worse things...’ Remus paused, as if he did not know whether to offer this confidence, but so many had been made or renewed already, that nothing was left to keep him back. ‘...like if I outlived you.’ The last few words were only a whisper, as though even speaking them might bring them about. Sirius looked down at him, not knowing what to say, glad he had not voiced his previous thought. Beside him, Remus seemed to shrink into himself with the weight of his confessions. ‘I don’t think I could do that.’

A beat. Then realisation formed with horrific clarity. 

‘No, Moony,’ Sirius said. ‘No, don’t talk like that...’ 

Sirius forgot about gentleness and delicacy. He grabbed him and hugged him close, as Remus shook against him. When he himself started to cry, he could not tell whether it was from anger or sadness. 

‘Remus...’ 

‘I couldn’t,’ Remus sobbed. ‘Not again.’ 

‘ _No_ ,’ he almost shouted. He grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him away just enough to look him in the eye, unwilling to be further apart than that. ‘Don’t ever... don’t even think about it.’ 

Remus fought to control his breathing. When he exhaled, it was as if some of the dread left him. There were still tears in his eyes when he looked up at him. 

‘Then don’t get yourself killed.’

Against his better judgement, and in the full knowledge that he was promising something outside his control, Sirius said: 

‘I won’t. We’ll get through this war. Both of us, together.’ He watched Remus for some sign of acceptance. He drew yet another shaky breath and released it. He nodded, once. Sirius nodded back, their makeshift deal sealed. He embraced him again, less desperately this time. Remus’ head sunk onto his chest. 

‘You should sleep,’ Sirius whispered and stroked his hair. They were back where this conversation had started, before all those fears had been voiced and shared. He felt Remus nodding, and when he glanced down at him, he saw that he had closed his eyes. He lay back too. Above him, the moonlight left a streak across the ceiling. Between Remus’ half-quenched sobs and the beating of his own heart, he thought he could hear the cursed grandfather clock ticking away downstairs. Each passing second was counted, each lost hour announced. Beside him, Remus shifted, forcing stiff joins to bend to follow the outline of his body better. His breath tickled his skin, as though to assure him, but it was not lengthening and slowing as he had expected. Sirius, weighed down by exhaustion, closed his eyes. Little by little, he felt himself sinking into sleep. At his side, Remus lay awake, watching the moonlight edging across a room, counting down to next night.


End file.
